


Daffodils, steel and hearts

by oswinosgoodsscarf



Category: Original Work
Genre: Canon Non-Binary Character, Families of Choice, Gen, Outer Space, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 22:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18949534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oswinosgoodsscarf/pseuds/oswinosgoodsscarf
Summary: A spaceship crash forces two people to get to know each other as they try to survive until their rescue. Short story about found family, sacrifice and flowers.





	Daffodils, steel and hearts

The silence was eerie; spaceships were, as a rule, rather noisy. Aside from the hum of the engines, the faint whirring of the life support systems, the spaceship they were on was home to hundreds of sapients - a constant chatter was inevitable, evidence of the numerous beings working, talking and living on board.

When Dr. Jackson came to, the silence was deafening. Sitting up, he took note of his injuries. Two cracked ribs from being tossed around by the explosion, dehydration and some spectacular bruises. He checked the medbay clock and cursed - he had been unconscious for a while. Stumbling through the hallway, he took note of the paneling and pipes littering the ground, carefully picking his way through the rubble towards the nearest whole computer station. When he arrived, the flashing red lights did not out the doctor at ease. A quick scan of the ship did not ease the knot in his stomach, either: half the ship was gone, with emergency air seals and the shields the only reason Jackson was still alive. Almost all of the recreation decks and living quarters were no longer attached, and the engines were shot to hell. Jackson turned away from the port and stumbled into the next hallway, looking for another survivor, only to stumble into a room full of broken machinery and scattered bodies.

He started scouring through the wreckage, refusing to believe that the entirety of the crew was beyond help. Every scan for life, every check for a pulse left the doctor a little more desperate to find someone he could save; but his hope dwindled with every corpse he found. After fruitless searching, Jackson had almost given up, resigning himself to being stranded alone until he stumbled across a body half buried under metal paneling. He wielded the bioscanner, on the lookout for a pulse, bracing himself for another wave of grief. The scanner beeped. The doctor blinked. Scanned again. Then scrambled to dig out the living person that currently being crushed.

 

* * *

 

The healing was slow and tedious. Harley was ready to start stabilizing the ship (what was left of it), to check over any engines left and repair the rooms the two would be using - Dr. Jackson only managed to convince the young engineer to stay still long enough for diagnosis and the beginnings of treatment through graphic descriptions of the damage. The doctor soon realized he’d have to spend hours every day monitoring the bots knitting together nerve endings, muscle and bone, all while Harley did their best to sit still long enough for him to do his job, which was getting extremely difficult after the very first few treatments. Jackson sighed as he had nudge his patient into their eat once again.

“You need to relax, this is very taxing on your body.” Dr. Jackson growled.

His patient sighed and their twitching intensified.

“But Doc, I have to do something, otherwise I’ll go crazy!”

The doctor fought the urge to sigh again.

“Taking breaks is important, kid- you need to rest from fixing the ship for at least a few minutes. We’ve gotten a lot done so far, so just do something else for just a little while, even if it serves no purpose.”

Harley scoffed, “What, art for art’s sake? I thought you’d be too much of a buzzkill for something like that. Next you’ll be telling me you like teddy bears and daisies.”

“I prefer daffodils, actually,” the doctor replied with a wry grin, and snickered at Harley’s reaction.

In the next session Jackson had to fight to repress smiling at Harley when they very pointedly took out thin metal strands to play with while he worked. He failed when they tossed a tiny metal heart at his head as he left the medbay, resolving to pay the kid back.

 

* * *

 

Grinning, Jackson watched as Harley tested out their new wheelchair. Later, he’d pretend to be disgruntled and grumble, but he was secretly glad to see the kid moving around and smiling. They were always so clearly in their element when moving around the underbelly of the ship, careful eyes and fingers picking out faulty wires or bots, and seeing their frustration with their limited mobility was almost painful to watch. Watching Harley racing through the medbay, making hairpin turns and cheering was certainly a welcome change.

 

* * *

 

Dr. Jackson glared at the numbers in front of him on the screen. They refused to change. No matter how many times he did the math or counted the rations, the fact remained that the food would run out long before the rescue pod was to arrive; they would die weeks before the rescue pod could get there. One person would possibly be able to scrape by, but two? He pod would only find their corpses. The doctor cursed as he realized that he and Harley wouldn’t survive.

Hearing faltering steps, he looked up to see the engineer leaning against the doorframe

“I fixed the bug in the water replicator, and I could walk fine until the last few meters!” They grinned.

Despite everything, Jackson felt a smile tug at his lips.

“Glad to hear it, kid. You’re getting stronger; now sit down and take a break before you rush off somewhere else.”

Harley rolled their eyes, but sprawled out onto the nearby chair, taking out scraps of metal to fiddle with. He watched as they worked - their nimble hands expertly guiding the metal  into shape, the absent-minded humming and grunting accompanying the movements. He thought back to every time he had seen them smile, heard their laugh and their talk of the future and his heart clench.

In that moment, he knew exactly what he had to do. One of them was already destined to die, and like hell was he going to let this person go on his watch. Not the engineer that would be a thousand times more useful than any doctor would be. Not this kid with that was barely old enough to go out into the black, with pockets full of tools and scraps, with nimble fingers and shining eyes. Not the young adult that had a whole life in front of them, instead of a few lonely twilight years. Jackson sighed, and took Harley by the hand.

“I looked over the rations that we have left. I did the math, and there - there isn’t enough  for us to survive. For… both of us to survive.” Jackson cautiously looked at Harley, “One person, though…”

Harley’s eyes widened in horror.

 

* * *

 

Much of being a doctor was learning what not to do, what things would be fatal in which amounts for each species. Anything could be deadly, depending on the amount, and 300 mg of morphine would serve Jackson quite well. He measured out the required amount while deft fingers loaded up the spray. Holding it up to his neck, Dr. Jackson paused in favor of looking at Harley. Misty eyes and shaking shoulders greeted him.

“Please don’t cry, Harley” he murmured, “I don’t want to see you cry.”

A sob escaped their mouth as they nodded.

“Are- are you sure that it won’t be painful? I can’t let this happen if you’ll be in pain.”

The older man tried to smile. “What, are you doubting my abilities as a doctor?” He quickly sobered, however, and reassured them. He watched the small frame shake and gathered the young adult up in his arms.

“It’ll be ok, kid, you’ll see. A strong person like you can weather anything.” He nudged Harley.

“Promise me something, ok?” Jackson felt his own eyes well up. “Promise me that you’ll do whatever it takes to survive. I can’t do this if I don’t know that you’ll be ok. If I’m going t-to die, I need to know that I didn’t hurt you for nothing, alright?”

After another sob, he felt them nod into his shoulder.

“Okay”, they whispered.

He held them closer for a moment longer, then forcing himself to pull away with a kiss to their forehead. The doctor compelled himself to lift the needle to is neck, finger on the plunger.

“I wish there was something else we could do, some other way. I - God, I don’t want to do this alone,” Harley croaked.

He felt himself start to cry in earnest. Blinking the tears away, Jackson tried to smile for the kid as he injected the morphine.

“I’m so sorry, Harley..."

“I love you, kid.”

With that, Jackson’s world grew dark.

 

* * *

 

 

When the rescue pod got to the wreckage, they were confronted with a half-starved young adult, a corpse, and a few half finished trinkets. The perturbed rescue team interviewed the listless survivor, filed the necessary reports and packed up the dead body to be buried on earth. The living person was packed up in a similar fashion, as were their tools and trinkets they stubbornly pocketed. They seemed especially protective of a half-finished daffodil sculpture.

 

* * *

 

Months later, a person could be seen standing by a tombstone. They leaned over, gently placing a bouquet of metal flowers/daffodils and a note on the grave. After pausing for a moment to lay their hand on the stone, they sighed and walked off, a slight limp in their gait. The flowers, formed from sheets of steel and wires, rusted and clinked against the note in the breeze, moving it to show the words written there:

Thank you Doc

I’m sorry for everything.

I love you too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! if you made it to here, a big thanks for reading this little story! i welcome feedback and constructive critisicm :D


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